


The Suffering of Potya

by kiaronna



Series: YOI One-Shots [10]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Comedy, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hint of otayuri, I actually wrote a fic about a cat, M/M, Vicchan Lives, not much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiaronna/pseuds/kiaronna
Summary: At first, Potya believes he’s going to the veterinarian. This means a great deal of cursing from Yuri, as he tries to unsuccessfully lure Potya into the pet carrier. But as in all things, his human wins, and Yuri stalks out the door with carrier in hand, only twenty minutes late. Potya accepts his fate.Soon, he realizes greater horrors are in store for him: Yuri’s dropped him off with the dopey poodle couple, the snuggly and curly bastards.





	The Suffering of Potya

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【授權翻譯】The Suffering of Potya by kiaronna](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11448414) by [inoripooh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inoripooh/pseuds/inoripooh)



> So... I wrote a petfic.  
> This is exactly like canon, except Vicchan LIVES. Yuuri still screwed up the Sochi GPF because his family thought Vicchan was going to die.

 

At first, Potya believes he’s going to the veterinarian. This means a great deal of struggle and cursing from his blonde housemate as he tries to lure Potya into the carrier, unsuccessfully. But as in all things, his human wins, and Yuri stalks out the door with carrier in hand, only twenty minutes late. Potya resigns himself to his fate of shots and being prodded.

Soon, he realizes greater horrors are in store for him: Yuri’s dropped him off with the dopey poodle couple, the snuggly and curly bastards.

One tumbles up to his kennel, and Potya hisses. The poodle is undeterred. From the other room, Potya can hear his Yuri and the two other humans, the ones that own the dogs, deep in discussion.

“How exciting!” Says the bigger poodle. There are streaks of silver in his curls. His name is something ridiculous, something that doesn’t exist… Mychin. Makeahen. Makkachin. He genuinely does look excited, tail wagging and tongue lolling, but  this is how he always appears, especially when he’s curled around the smaller poodle. The smaller poodle is… tolerable. Quieter, more polite, and walks instead of bounds to Potya’s kennel. The limp in his gait is almost imperceptible, but Potya is a cat, and no movement escapes his eyes. Vicchan never talks about it, and Makkachin’s only acknowledgment is gentler nuzzling at the bad leg. Potya meets them, every once in a while, when Yuri takes him outside the house. “You’re going to stay with us!”

“Let me out!” Potya howls in response. The humans do not come running into the room, so he howls again. The poodles rub up against each other, stupidly grinning and utterly useless in the face of Potya’s suffering.

Finally, Yuri appears. His hands smell like chicken and beef, butter. The human’s face is etched into a permanent scowl, except when he cuddles with Potya and occasionally while talking to his grandfather or Otabek on the phone. He brutally and unfairly refuses to feed Potya twenty times a day, instead starving Potya. Potya complains by nipping, and he gets scolded for that, too— has his catnip taken away. The list of cruelties go on and on.

Potya loves Yuri. He does not want Yuri to leave.

“I’m going to visit Otabek,” Yuri says into the fluff of Potya’s neck as the human pulls him from the carrier. “Behave, okay? The married losers have promised to let me Facetime you.”

Potya does not dignify this awful explanation with a response, just pushes his wet nose into his human’s neck.

“Don’t leave me with them,” he says. Yuri does not understand. Yuri never understands, not even the simplest of Potya’s words.

“Love you too,” Yuri whispers, low. Like he doesn’t want the other humans to hear. He presses a quick kiss onto the vulnerable space between Potya’s ears.

“Not what I said! I’m going to knock your Gameboy into my toilet!” Potya promises. The threat does nothing. Yuri still leaves. Even quicker, when the dog’s humans reach out their arms to hug him goodbye. Yuri _leaves_. The dopey poodle couple remain.

“Don’t be sad,” says Makkachin. He ambles off, a dog on a mission, and returns with a drool-covered toy. He sets it at an unimpressed Potya’s feet. “You can play with this!”

“Thanks,” he says, sour, and knocks the toy under the couch.

Makkachin whines, for five seconds. Vicchan’s gentle lick to his face has him trotting around happily, toy forgotten.

“Make yourself at home,” Vicchan welcomes. Yuri looks up, to the couch, where the dog’s humans have settled. They’re curled up on top of each other, like one is a pet, sitting in the other’s lap. Where is Potya supposed to sit? Well, he’ll make a seat. If he ever deigns to let the humans rub him. Potya is about to go find the best hiding spots in the house, so he can avoid poodle interactions, when the humans start to talk.

“I can’t believe we’ll have three pets living at our house.”

“Uh,” says the black haired human. “I just got a text from Phichit.”

“Ah, I know he has business talks for his show in Moscow this week. What’s going on?”

“He needs a home for his babies,” the blackhaired human says. “He smuggled them on the plane, but the hotel realized he had them and demands he not cause an ‘infestation.’” They laugh, and it’s a strange laugh—them tipping into each other, foreheads together, smiles open and bright.

“They love each other _almost_ as much as they love me and Vicchan,” Makkachin explains.

“I want to go home,” says Potya.

“So two poodles, a cat, and three hamsters,” the silver-haired human laughs. “We can start a zoo.”

 _Hamsters_. “I no longer wish to go home,” says Potya.

“You can’t eat them,” Vicchan sighs.

Potya is often told things like this. _You can’t eat the pirozhki. You can’t eat off my plate_. Potya, like his human, considers fierce determination to be his greatest skill.

“Oh no,” says Potya. “I guess I won’t.”

Vicchan gives him a wise, sad look. “Potya, really, you can’t eat them.” Potya is already plotting. “You know, we can tell what you’re thinking. We’re not stupid.”

“He is,” Potya protests, looking over to the bigger poodle. Makkachin rolls over onto his back, belly exposed. Potya is a warrior. Potya could take both of the poodle couple on, and still have enough energy to chase hamsters.

“He’s not,” Vicchan says with another sigh. Makkachin rolls to his feet, wiggles over to the couch, shoves his fuzzy nose between the two humans’ faces. At this, the black-haired human sits up, slides off the other’s lap, and peppers the dog in kisses.

Silver-haired human Is Not Having It.

“Yuuri,” he whines.

“Yes, Viktor?” Yuuri asks calmly. There’s a glint in his eyes, and Potya knows it for what it is. He’s on the hunt. “Did you want kisses, too?”

Very shortly after this, ‘Viktor’ gets kisses. Plenty of them. Very different kisses from ones Potya has seen.

“Are they feeding each other?” He asks. Vicchan shakes his head _no_. “I’m leaving.”

“Don’t,” chirps Makkachin, “stay and watch.” At this baffling advice, Potya does. A few minutes from the start of the strange kissing, the humans break apart, look over to where the poodles, and Potya, sit at rapt attention. The human that was on the hunt, Yuuri, goes very red.

“Let’s…”

Five minutes later, the humans have disappeared behind a closed door. Potya would normally be very offended by this, but they have set out two rawhides and a can of tuna for him in the kitchen, so he decides to overlook the error.

“You’re welcome,” says Makkachin through a mouth of rawhide.

Maybe the stay will not be terrible, Potya muses. He can handle an afternoon of this—and then, surely, Yuri will come for him.

 

* * *

 

It has been a day. Yuri has not come for him. Potya wishes he could take out his frustration on the couch, but Vicchan talks him down.

Then, the hamsters arrive. Potya loves hamsters—not just what he imagines they taste like, but their cute little chattering, too.

“We’re so high!” One screeches from a makeshift cage, held aloft by a tanned young human that smells like spices and fish. The last time Potya met this human, he took five very flattering pictures of Potya.

“So high!” Another echoes. “Dad! Dad!”

“Shhh, kids,” says the tanned human, understanding. “I know you’re up high. Calm down.”

Potya’s opinion of Spicy Fish human skyrockets. “I’m leaving with him,” he says, once Spicy Fish Human and Viktor and Yuuri are done talking. Potya tries to follow him out the door. Before he can escape, Yuuri picks him up. Potya is about to show the human what a life with a scratched up face is like, when he suddenly finds himself being cradled.

“Guh,” he says, eyes widening. Humans are not _beautiful_ , per se—they’re very ugly, mostly hairless and completely clueless. Their appeal lies completely in the magical production of food and in petting. Luckily, Yuuri is very, very good at petting. His brown eyes are also warm, impossibly loving.

“He’s purring for me,” Yuuri says. “He just took a bit, to warm up.”

“He is Yurio’s cat,” adds Viktor. Potya glares at him, from the comfort of Yuuri’s arms, and knows what he’s going to do the next morning.

 

* * *

 

The humans sleep _very_ close together, which makes it difficult for him to step on Viktor where it will hurt—but Potya is stubborn. Potya will find a way.

Viktor likes to shed his fancy fur, at night. In the morning he’s all pale, hairless limbs, wide expanses of skin. Potya almost feels sorry for him. Any pity he has dies completely, when he realizes that Yuuri is stroking at Viktor’s face, still half-asleep.

“Did you get petted _all night_?” He demands of the silver-haired human. He pads up Viktor’s leg, where he’s rolled onto his side and curled around Yuuri, mostly beneath the covers. “Share, you awful man!” Despite his demands, Yuuri makes no movement—though Viktor opens one blue eye.

“Good morning, Potya. Are you hungry?”

“Give me hamsters,” Potya hisses, and steps right where he knows the human’s sensitive stomach is. Viktor yelps. Yuuri rolls at this, blearily stares to Potya and then nudges forward, kisses Viktor on the lips. Potya thinks both of their breaths smell terrible, but neither of the humans seem to care. They mock Potya and his endless hunger by continuing to kiss, and rub noses, for another few minutes.

“Good morning,” Viktor whispers. Then and there, Potya decides that this is a man just like a dog—lovestruck, devoted, and clueless. Yuuri sighs.

“I walked the dogs last off-day. It’s your turn for pet care. Thank you, Vitya.” With one last kiss, he rolls over. As the final blow, he pulls at the covers, completely ignorant of the way Viktor’s lip juts, his heart stuttering in his chest beneath Potya’s paws.

Viktor may be a dog, but Yuuri is a _cat_. When Potya returns, having been fed a disappointing not-hamster breakfast, Yuuri is still sprawled in bed, limbs tossed aimlessly across the sun-soaked sheets. Potya nuzzles into the crook of his elbow, and purrs.

He still hopes Yuri comes back soon.

 

* * *

 

Despite his unforgivable act of leaving, Yuri brought over all of Potya’s toys, and Potya’s bed. This is good, because Potya did not want to share the poodles’ bed. They have two, but stubbornly refuse to use one of them, both poodles curling close on a single cushion and snuffling at each other.

“That’s too small for you,” Yuuri will say, stroking at Makkachin and Vicchan’s heads with both hands.

“It reminds me of us,” Viktor says, “in your room back in Hasetsu.”

Potya decides that if the humans were squished before, they can do it again. Viktor will probably thank him for the opportunity to be close, the desperate puppy that he is. So Potya flops on one side of their bed, spreads out. Ungratefully, they move him.

* * *

 

The hamsters are kept in a small room off to the side. Potya can hear them squeaking through the door.

“Hungry hungry!” One squeals. Potya understands the feeling. Yuuri feeds them after dinner, he realizes, so Potya follows him the second day after the hamsters are delivered and tries to squeeze through the door with the human.

Vicchan, with his little limp and his noble, obnoxious face, presses himself into the space just in time.

“Potya,” he scolds. “We told you. Those are Phichit’s babies, you know.”

Potya thinks. “Spicy Fish Human? He deserves better.”

“He’s coming back for them,” Vicchan murmurs, “and he’ll be very upset if any are missing.”

“Well isn’t that great for them,” Potya huffs. He goes and rips up one of his toys in protest. Vicchan, ever cautious and too observant, follows him. When Potya settles onto the ground, tail flicking and rage staved off (for now), the poodle approaches. Nudges at him with a warm cheek.

“Don’t worry,” Vicchan says, curling around him. “Yuri will be back. My Yuuri was gone for years, but I waited. I was good, and I waited, and he came back for me. Even after I got hit by a car, and they thought I was going to die, I pulled through after a few days. Waited. And because I waited so long, he called Viktor and Makkachin to come be with us, so we wouldn’t be lonely. Now we’re a family, and everything is even better.”

“He called for Viktor?”

“Yeah,” Vicchan whuffles, “Makkachin said. Makkachin said they’d been wanting us to become family for _such_ a long time.” He shuffles, looks around, probably for the larger poodle. “I’d been waiting longer, of course. We had pictures of Makkachin up in my room since I was a puppy.”

Potya muses on this. Maybe Otabek, the human-stealing monster, has a cat. Maybe Yuri will bring home Otabek, and a new friend.

Potya dozes, and when he wakes up the Viktor human is there, phone out and silly grin on his face. At some point, Makkachin has joined them on the floor, curling around Potya from the other side. It is hot, and very uncomfortable, and smells terribly of poodles. Poodles smell like freshly cut grass, Viktor’s cologne, and… hamsters?

“What were you doing?” Potya asks Makkachin lowly.

“If you’re good,” Makkachin says, snuggling in further, “maybe they’ll let the hamsters climb all over you, like they did with me.”

“I hate you!” Potya yowls.

“Aw,” says the Viktor human. His phone flashes. Potya, despite his best efforts, is wedged tightly between the two poodles, who are now licking at him.

“I will have my revenge,” he vows. The poodles, and Viktor, are foolishly unafraid.

 

* * *

 

It has been a week, and Yuri has not returned. Sometimes he leaves, going to competitions, but Potya has always been left with Yuri’s grandfather. Why is this time different?

What if Yuri _never_ comes back? What if he’s stuck watching the two poodles flirt with each other, and their disgusting humans do the same? At least the humans are gone most of the day.

One evening, while he’s prowling the counter, he sees something shiny. So he knocks it off the counter, chases it over the kitchen floor’s tiles. Viktor is washing the dishes, humming something sappy and slow, and doesn’t seem to mind.

Before bed, the commotion arises.

“I lost it, I lost it,” Viktor moans. He buries his face in his hands, collapses onto the couch.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Yuuri soothes, sitting beside him. “We’ll find it.”

“No,” Viktor cries, and Potya has to flinch at the sound of anguish, “no, I lost it forever, and I’m an undeserving husband! Married for just three years, and I lose it—”

“Vitya,” the better human says sternly. “Vitya, we have everything truly important. The rings were just a symbol, and you _know_ that.”

“You were the one that bought them, though,” Viktor says, drooping. “They were with us, our good luck charms, in Barcelona, and it’s your last year…”

To Potya’s surprise, the poodles are allowed to both climb up on the couch, to lick at each of the human’s faces. The humans giggle, are forced to shift and open up their laps, tangle their feet in front of them on the coffee table.

“Everything important is still here,” Yuuri hums finally, gentle. He reaches out and pets at Viktor’s cheek. "We have everything we need." Potya is not an entirely selfish being. He feels he should contribute some comfort to the soggy pile of humans and dog, so he goes and fetches his shiny new toy. Humans like shiny objects.

“No,” Viktor says, voice wobbling with disbelieving joy, “ _Potya_. You found it!”

“I regret EVERYTHING!” Potya screeches, as they pull him up into their arms.

“Do we have to give Yurio his cat back?” Viktor asks with his puppy dog eyes.

“Only if you want him to ever leave our house,” is Yuuri’s curt reply.

They look to each other then, nodding. “Let’s keep the cat.”

Humans are indecipherable beings. Set on Yuuri’s chest, Potya can feel the shaking laughter, see Viktor’s face, propped up on Yuuri’s shoulder, smiling down at him and the dopey poodles. Potya is annoyed. Potya is not free to wander through the home as he pleases. Potya is warm. Potya… thinks he could get used to this.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Yuri shows up on a screen in the home, and Potya realizes he misses his human more than ever.

“You inconsiderate little _traitor_ ,” Potya yowls, “I’m going to put my butt in your face _every morning_ when you get your sorry self back here!”

“Look, Potya’s excited to see you,” Yuuri laughs.

“Baby,” says Yuri, “Potya, are they treating you right? Feeding you and not letting those stupid poodles bully you?”

“Every day is the worst nightmare!” Potya complains, and steps on all of the computer keys. Maybe he can shove himself through this tiny screen, go wherever Yuri is. “I’ll be dead by tomorrow!”

“He loves it here,” lies Viktor. Heartless, completely lacking in guilt. “Yurio, didn’t I send you the pictures? The poodles like to cuddle up with him. Everyone in our house loves Potya. You know who we’d also like to get to know better, though…”

“HAH?” Yuri snorts. “I’m not letting Otabek talk to _you losers_ , not again _—“_

“Hello,” comes an accented but smooth voice. Suddenly, Yuri has disappeared from the screen, and a dark-haired man fills it.

In his arms… is the fluffiest cat Potya has ever seen. A hairball, with big green eyes.

“Hello,” she peeps, as resolute and quiet as her human. Instantly, Potya hates her with a burning passion, for being with Yuri when Potya is not. He also wants to lick her all over, to clean her up and make her fur sleek. Potya will share hamsters with her, if he ever gets one. He’ll put birds and mouse toys at her fuzzy little feet—

“Aha,” says Makkachin, “you’re so adorable, Potya. I looked just as lovestruck when I first met Vicchan in the onsen.”

“What?” Huffs Vicchan, “you didn’t like me till after the Pork Bun Choking incident.”

“Oh, that? That was a great excuse to cuddle up with you,” Makkachin’s admission is easy, entirely without shame. Vicchan whines, scrabbles backward over the tiles, clearly embarrassed. “You know. I saw my life flash before my eyes, and thought, what if I die while never having dug a hole and snuggled up in it with my beloved Vicchan…”

“Makkachin, you’re joking—“

“Everybody _shut up_!” Potya screeches. “I am trying to make a good first impression on the Yuri-Stealing-Bastard’s cute cat!”

There is a telling silence. Potya stubbornly refuses to take anything back.

“Um,” says the fluffball on the other side of the screen, “the first impression was… already made. Yuri has been showing us pictures all week, and telling us stories. Did you really steal a whole plate of pirozhki?”

“I did,” Potya says, chest puffed up with pride. “I am a great hunter. I can provide.”

Across the screen, Otabek looks down, scratches at the cute cat’s… hair? Maybe she has ears in there, somewhere.

“You can call me Bear,” the fluffball supplies, whiskers trembling. “I think Otabek and I are coming up to visit you, soon. We’ll be friends, won’t we.” This is said flatly, with certainty. Potya likes it. “See you later.”

Potya is going to have to clean up the house. It has a disturbing lack of catnip, and chicken. Before he can muse on this too long, the camera shifts back to Yuri.

“Don’t interrogate my friend!” Yuri snaps.

“I would never,” says Viktor, saccharine. He can be on the hunt too, Potya realizes. “Just leave him alone with us for five minutes…”

He and the poodles leave the humans to their strange conversations over the magic computer screen. Potya finds a decent patch of muted Russian sunlight, sits down to muse—he feels better, having seen Yuri. Now he’ll have to think of a different punishment for when Yuri comes back after having abandoned him. Eating the laces on Yuri’s skates seems too harsh, after today.

Vicchan and Makkachin come up, block the sun with their fluffy, tumbling bodies.

“Hi, idiots,” Potya mewls, lazy. “Lay down or go away.” They form a circle around him, nuzzling their heads together over Potya.

“Bear is cute,” Makkachin announces.

“You’re going to be a family,” Vicchan yips, softly.

“Yeah we are,” says Potya. “But I’ll only let you idiot poodles stay in my family with me and Bear if you don’t screw this up for me. And you’ll let my kittens claw you, and bite you.”

“We would be honored,” the two poodles say. Makkachin yawns.

“And,” Potya adds, firmly, “you’ll bring me a hamster.”

They do not bring him a hamster, just curl in tighter around him. When the humans are done talking to Yuri, they meander back into the room, holding hands. Eventually they pile up on the couch again, petting at each other until they start dozing, Yuuri twitching in his sleep until Viktor rubs at his hip.

 _Someday soon_ , Potya thinks, _Yuri will come home_.

On the car ride home, he’s going to memorize the route, so he can walk back whenever he pleases.

 

* * *

 

“Potya!” Yuri calls, the instant he’s in the door. It pleases Potya immensely to see his human shove past the ecstatic Viktor and Yuuri, instead making a beeline for him. Spicy Fish Human had picked up his hamsters the day before, and Potya surprisingly has not missed them. “There you are.”

He goes up, purring, into Yuri’s arms. Perhaps he won’t punish Yuri at all, for abandoning Potya. Yuri knows just where to scratch, behind his ears, and the perfect spot on his back. Potya loves him more than catnip, and warm sun-speckled patches of carpet, and—

Potya is dumped in a cat carrier.

“Of ALL THE INDIGNITIES,” he howls.

“Bye, Potya!” Makkachin says, from where he’s happily nuzzling up against Vicchan’s good leg. Potya hates them. Potya is going to come back, and rip up their cute little shared doggy bed. He shudders, and realizes they’d just fit themselves onto the smaller one. “We’ll miss you!”

“Bye, Potya!” Viktor says, waving floppily, like he’s never done it before. Yuuri kisses his cheek. Yuri makes a retching noise.

“Thanks for taking care of my cat, I guess.” He pops his face in front of the cat carrier, smiles. “Let’s go home,” says Yuri. He smells of lamb, and strange vegetables, of oil. Faintly, Potya can pick up the lovely warm scent of another cat. The fluffy, stoic little thing.

Maybe, just maybe, this week has been better than a trip to the veterinarian.

**Author's Note:**

> Phichit's hamsters are the happiest hamsters in the whole world. He IS a hamster-whisperer.  
> Thanks for reading, and commenting if you do that! Also, for dealing with my silliness. This was fun, and a breath of air from my serious, angsty fic.  
> I have a [tumblr](https://kiaronna.tumblr.com/).  
> If you read my other stuff, I'm currently in the process of writing POL!


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